


Sherlock's Laughter

by yauksiei



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Scandal in Bulgravia AU, Childhood References, Laughter, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-31 00:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yauksiei/pseuds/yauksiei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He had not heard Sherlock laugh like that in a very long time."</p><p>AU in A Scandal in Bulgravia: what was Mycroft thinking when he heard his little brother laugh so freely with John? (aside from the annoyance, of course ;P) I made up some memories from their childhood and university years too. Slashy elements included of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock's Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> I was just watching a clip from A Scandal in Bulgravia, when Sherlock and John laugh at Mycroft as he enters the room. I realized that Sherlock has not laughed like that in the entire series up until that point. He has only smiled, and even then there is a sort of facade about it. Except for when he's with John.
> 
> I feel obligated to go through a dreaded disclaimer, so here it is: I don't own any of the characters. Just writing some fanfiction of which I get no profit from. :D enjoy!

"Are we here to see the Queen?"

"Oh, apparently yes."

Laughter. Not just from Dr. Watson, but from Sherlock as well. Mycroft almost stopped before he fully entered the room as he heard it. He had not heard Sherlock laugh like that in a very long time. The sound was pure, free, and easy, harmonizing with John's high humorous tones with its deep baritone ones. His eyes lit up with a jovial expression that was true and honest, not covered up. Even Sherlock's smile was innocent, like that of a child's.

The last time Mycroft heard his little brother make such a noise was when they were children. Mycroft had been 7, Sherlock 3. They were in the nursery of their house. Sherlock was giggling as he played with his new toys that Mummy had given him. The toddler was absolutely delighted with them, and would not stop laughing as the little duck toy made its quacking noises, the little piglet going "oink, oink".

Granted, the sound had been a lot higher, since Sherlock hadn't gone through puberty. But Mycroft still remembered it, and although vastly different in pitch, the sound was still the same.

All the times after Sherlock's 3rd year of life had hallow laughter and masked smiles.

Mycroft remembered bits and pieces of them. He had still yet to delete all of them from his memory. Flashes of those broken pieces flickered to him now.

When their father had first struck Sherlock. Mummy screaming. Mycroft forced to watch. Sherlock just giving a small, empty chuckle and staying perfectly still. He received a harder strike for his laughter (if one could call it that).

At school, when Sherlock had first started his deductions. Mycroft knew that he used the family gift as a way of defence, even then. The younger Holmes could better determine whether or not people wanted to do him harm, so he could defend himself. That was how their father had finally ended up in jail.

The children pushed him around, called him names. "Freak. Weirdo. Jerk." They outcasted him. "Get away from us, Freak!" "I'm not going to be your friend! Go away!" "Friend? You don't *have* friends."

Mycroft still regretted his just standing by and watching. Back then, he had wanted Sherlock to grow up and get stronger. But instead, Sherlock created higher walls and shut off from the world. He just smiled and laughed as he was rejected and bullied. But that sound was humorless. Vacant. Horrible.

The next time he laughed like that was at university. The time in between was a period of no laughter at all, simply meaningless smiles. Mycroft had been a senior when Sherlock was just entering. The class hated him. They shunned him, whispering things about him behind his back, sometimes right in front of his face. Mycroft recalls one Sebastian being especially terrible.

Sherlock just shrugged it off. Once everyone had gone away after his deducting who had slept with who the previous night, frowning and hissing at him, he merely laughed. However, just like the other times--excepting that heavenly jovial sound from so long ago--it was forced, and was as much of a laughter as a snarl was.

Time flashed forward to when Sherlock had just met John. Mycroft had annoyed John more than scared him when they had their very first chat, which had given him higher hopes even then. He was right in his assumptions. Sherlock's sociopathic nature always seemed to melt away whenever he looked at his flatmate. He showed emotion, real emotion, and smiled like he *meant* it. Mycroft had already deducted what was going to happen, and when he was let into 221b by Mrs. Hudson one day he was proved right once again when he found Sherlock's first kiss being taken by the good doctor. But it wasn't a harsh lip lock. There was nothing savage about it. It was tender. Kind. *Loving*.

And Mycroft had thought Sherlock had made himself incapable of such a thing.

Now here they were. Mycroft put on an annoyed face. He was annoyed to be sure, but the overwhelming joy of a big brother seeing his younger sibling laughing so freely dampened the annoyance to almost nothing.

"Just once can you two behave like grownups?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This was my first Mycroft POV, so please go easy? :D


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